


Made With Love

by onthecount (crowry)



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Bagels, M/M, incredibly stupid, straight up porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-15
Updated: 2010-11-15
Packaged: 2017-11-01 13:35:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/357390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowry/pseuds/onthecount
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eames has a magical, unexplainable power.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Made With Love

It’s an accident, really, when they bend the fabric of reality (or whatever it is they do, know one ever knows for sure). He supposes they could blame it on Ariadne, but she was just around. It’s not her fault. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s that guy at the bagel shop, the one Eames shot in that one dream, or the mark whose projection the bagel guy projection was.   
  
Okay, so he has no idea who to blame (because it’s  _not his fault_ , how could this possibly be  _his_ fault?). He doesn’t know how it happened, and it’s really weird, but Eames has an ability far more practical than his malleable self-image:   
  
He can produce bagels out of thin air.   
  
And, right, that sounds really, really horrible, but it’s not like he  _shits_  them or forms them from dew and air or says a magical incantation. Arthur wouldn’t even believe it if he hadn’t tested it extensively.   
  
They’re mid-coitus the first time it happens. Arthur’s panting, “Eames, yes,  _fuck_ ,” against Eames’ shoulder, and Eames is moaning unintelligibly, rocking his hips up and rubbing his cock against Arthur’s belly. Arthur says the right things during sex, but sometimes his mind wanders, so,  _so_ , he’s thinking, “ _I could really go for a bagel right now_ ,” and he’s mouthing at Eames’ chest and he would be saying Eames' name again but he can’t form words. So he’s coming, and he’s reaching between them to pull Eames off, too, and suddenly there’s a bag of fresh, delicious-smelling bagels on the floor next to them.   
  
Eames comes, fingers digging into Arthur’s back, and Arthur says, “Eames,” as clearly as he can manage. They’re both mussed and sticky and sated, and Eames must think Arthur is still in the throes of passion because he leans up to kiss him. This is a great distraction for a few minutes, but Arthur can smell the onions and is that  _blueberries_ ? “Eames,” he gasps, pulling away. “ _Bagels_ .”   
  
Eames gives him a funny look, half smile, half confusion, and asks, “Did I hear you ask for bagels during sex, or was that my imagination?”   
  
“I—what,  _no_ ,” Arthur chokes. “I, I thought about how good they sounded, but,” (here, Eames breaks into fond laughter, and Arthur’s train of thought derails for a minute). “Wait, no, that’s not the point,” he says. “There are bagels  _right there_ .” He points to the unmarked white paper bag, unmistakably filled with amazing, magical bagels.   
  
Eames gives him a different look and says, “Darling,” cautiously, like Arthur is going crazy.   
  
“No, seriously,” Arthur says, “Look.” He pushes up, and apparently the loss of contact is enough for Eames, because he cranes his neck back.   
  
“What the fuck,” he says. “Did you buy those earlier?”   
  
“They appeared,” Arthur says. “Just after I came.”   
  
Eames snorts, looking incredulously from the bagels to Arthur. “You jizzed bagels?” he says, feigning gullible curiosity with a grin. There was a time when Arthur would've punched him for it.   
  
“Fine,” Arthur snaps, “Don’t believe me.” He stands up, snatches the bagels, and goes to toast the blueberry one, telling himself that magically appearing bagels are perfect and magical and can be in no way sinister, poisonous, or harmful.   
  
And you know what? They’re fucking  _delicious_ .   
  
*   
  
Eames mocks him about his “entertaining bagel theatrics” for the next three days, during which they both eat delicious bagels of every assortment ever loved by Arthur and other bagel-lovers across the world. Arthur tries not to think too hard about it, but then they’re both awake too late working and Arthur asks if Eames wants a bagel, and Eames makes a lewd comment about Arthur having to beat one out, and they end up naked against Arthur’s desk.   
  
Arthur is half-sitting on the edge, Eames pressed to his chest, standing between his legs. “Fuck,” Eames says, fisting both their cocks between them, and Arthur can feel the way Eames’ breathing is speeding up against the side of his neck.  
  
“Wait,” he says. He tugs Eames’ hand away and nudges him with his chin until he makes eye contact. “Hold on. Keep your eyes open,” he says, and slides down, licking a stripe down Eames’ cock. He feels Eames lean, bracing himself on the edge of the desk, and sucks the head past his lips, humming lightly around his cock.   
  
He only has a gasp of “What the actual fuck,” to warn him before Eames is coming, and he doesn’t bother trying to swallow it, just closes his throat and keeps licking Eames’ cock.   
  
“Love,” Eames is gasping, and then, confirming Arthur’s fears, he says, “ _Bagels_ .”   
  
*   
  
The job is supposed to be fairly simple, but it’s  _Cobb_ , so of course five million things go wrong, and of course he tries to pin them on Arthur. Arthur wouldn’t really mind, because he’s a fucking professional, but Cobb makes him irate like not even Eames can because Cobb is just charming enough to be unprofessional all the time. It’s not like Saito cares. He regards their group dynamic as something of a novelty, and he’s filthy rich and a bastard, they all play along.   
  
The dreamscape is half New York City, half ancient ruin, and they’re knee-deep in what appears to be Perrier Lime. Arthur is slogging up the sidewalk to ask Ariadne what the fuck is going on and wondering if they didn’t learn their lesson on the Fischer job about drinking too much before going under, and the door to the bagel shop he’s just outside of bursts open. A tiny, bearded man starts throwing bagels at his head, and he ducks just in time to discover that they’re fucking  _hand grenades_ .   
  
Cobb, alerted by the explosion, gets a very mean look on his face, like the fact that their mark has populated her dream with angry civilians is Arthur’s fault. Arthur barely has time to shout, “Oh,  _fucking spare me_ ,” at him before Eames pushes him down below the water (definitely Perrier Lime) and shoots the bagel man full of holes.   
  
They end up getting the information they need, and some that they really, really don’t, and they leave Saito’s ex-mistress sedated in a hotel room in Chicago and get the fuck out.   
  
Arthur would be lying out his ass if he said he had any idea what it all meant, but after the fourth time he ignores his own erection and brings Eames off first, they’re forced to admit that something weird is happening, and Eames grudgingly apologizes for being an ass about it.   
  
*   
  
It’s not a big deal, except for the part where they have  _no idea how it’s happening_ , so they both keep eating the bagels and don’t say anything about it to anyone else. Not even when Eames gets a haircut and grows an infuriatingly attractive mustache for a con, and because they have so many fucking bagels, they give them away to Ariadne and Yusuf. Arthur was told not to waste, so he brings some in to the office he’s doing temp work at, too. Thankfully no one asks where he got them, but there’s no shortage of praise for their deliciousness.   
  
Arthur just hopes they’re not actually made of jizz.   
  
*   
  
It all comes to a head the next fall.   
  
Arthur and Eames both love bagels, they really do, but they’ve had  _so many_  and Arthur is putting on weight from it and they don’t know what to do with them all. It’s irritating to just want to fuck and suddenly there’s bagels  _everywhere_ , more bagels than they can give away inconspicuously. Arthur starts taking them to the homeless shelter a few blocks up every morning.   
  
Eames goes away to Spain for a week to pull a heist, and Arthur has no bagels and smells no bagels and goes out of his way to  _see_  no bagels, and it’s glorious, but he misses Eames and his smile and the way he presses his hands into Arthur’s back and intentionally gives him beard burn.   
  
When he gets back, Arthur presses him against the door and kisses him, and that’s even better than no bagels, but they fuck in the entry of the apartment and of course, when they finish, there are bagels.   
  
“We’ve got to find a way to stop this,” Eames says, groaning. Arthur pets his hair in agreement.   
  
*   
  
Cobb was the one who dreamed the level with the bagel shop all those months ago, so when they meet at the California Pizza Kitchen for Eames’ birthday, he’s the first one Arthur tells.   
  
He stares at Arthur for a minute when he pulls him aside, probably trying to decide whether or not Arthur is drunk or just kidding or what, but he seems to accept it as truth, because the first thing he says is, sounding infinitely pained, “Arthur, I gave those to my  _children_ .”   
  
Arthur winces. “I know, Cobb, I’m sorry, just.” He pushes his hair back from his forehead, stressed. “I don’t know what else to do with them.”   
  
Cobb stares some more, then claps him on the shoulder and looks him very seriously in the eye. “You need to tell everyone. We can help you.”   
  
So, they do.   
  
“Ugh!” Ariadne says, dropping her fork, “We ate those!”   
  
Yusuf grimaces, but he looks amused, too. “They were pretty good.”   
  
“Would you like to open a bagel shop?” Saito asks. “I could arrange it.”   
  
“ _No_ ,” Arthur hisses. “We would like for Eames to  _stop jizzing bagels_ .”   
  
Cobb and Yusuf start laughing, and it’s a testament to how very trying their lives are that Eames just gives the both of them dirty looks and orders another drink.   
  
They figure, after extensive conversation, that it’s because of the Bagel Guy projection Eames shot in Cobb’s dream and Saito’s ex-mistress’s subconscious, and Saito agrees to finance their quest to eradicate the unwanted bagels from Arthur and Eames’ love life. (He does so reluctantly; he’s disappointed that Arthur and Eames don’t want to open a bagel shop.)   
  
Problematically, the ex-mistress has had her mind further militarized since they last extracted from her. The job takes as much planning as an actual extraction would, and for the two weeks of prep, no one says anything about bagels at all. They're all worried it'll trigger Arthur.   
  
They have Cobb re-dream the same dream, and Ariadne drinks too much Perrier beforehand again, and when they go under, conditions are more or less the same.   
  
Arthur walks determinedly past the bagel shop, confident that Cobb and Eames have him covered from hostile fire. The windowed door full of bullet holes, and when the Bagel Guy projection falls out onto the stoop, apparently dead, with a bag of bagels, Arthur clears his throat and repeats the incantation Yusuf had looked up for him.   
  
It is, of course, fucking ridiculous, but when Arthur finishes and throws ash on the dead Bagel Guy, he twitches, and his eyes open, and Arthur doesn’t even run when he catches the bagel grenade in the hand not holding his Glock. He turns around, smiles, and when he wakes up in the hotel room, he sits serenely in his chair and wonders if this is  _it_ .   
  
Eames wakes less than a minute later, gives him a  _look_ , and they’re both out of the room before anyone else has even unhooked themselves from the PASIV.   
  
Arthur barely has the door to their room open before Eames is shoving him in, hands on his arms and mouth working at the spot behind Arthur’s ear. They’re both half-hard already, and Arthur almost  _whines_ , “I’m sorry, I need to know,” as he turns them over and yanks down Eames’ trousers. He takes a minute to kiss his way down Eames’ chest, feeling guilty about it—he knows what gets Eames off, but he’s barely ever used the knowledge of how to undo him so ruthlessly.   
  
It is the shortest blowjob of Arthur’s cocksucking career, and one of the few where Arthur doesn’t even complain, just swallows until Eames is done. Arthur slides up when Eames goes soft, and they look at each other warily for a minute before sitting up to survey the room.   
  
There are  _no bagels_ . Arthur says so.   
  
“Oh, fuck,” Eames says, and pushes Arthur down onto the hideous floral bedspread. “That is such a fucking turn-on.”   
  
“Fuck yes it is,” Arthur hisses, divesting himself of pants and shoving his tongue into Eames’ mouth with ridiculously attractive economy of movement. Eames shifts his knee against Arthur’s erection and grins when Arthur moans into his mouth.   
  
Arthur can’t even manage to be embarrassed when he comes two minutes later, frotting desperately against Eames’ thigh, because when he comes, there are no bagels.   
  
They’re making out on the bed, naked, when someone knocks on the door.   
  
“Hey,” Cobb says. “How’s it, uh. How’s it going?”   
  
“Bagel-less,” Arthur shouts, and hopes Cobb doesn’t hear the high-pitched whine he makes right after, when Eames sucks hard at his neck.   
  
He must, though, because he says, “Well, I’ll leave you to it,” clears his throat, and then, “Congratulations,” and no one else disturbs them for the rest of the night.   
  
*   
  
It goes against all logic, but Arthur learned in his army days not to question things. He got into dreamshare by following nonsense orders and he got his husband to stop jizzing bagels by performing a bullshit resurrection in a stranger’s subconscious.   
  
“If this keeps up,” he tells Eames, “I’m going to have to find religion to stabilize me.”   
  
Eames snorts, but he strokes a hand down Arthur’s face. “I know what you mean,” he says.   
  
They both laugh.   
  
It’s a novelty to fuck and not produce whole grain or raisin bagels for the next six months, and it's a relief for the next 24 months after that, and they don’t eat any bagels at all for the next five years. And you know what? It's fucking  _awesome_ . 


End file.
